Nene Brings Christmas Dinner
by SurfingSpider
Summary: It is Christmas in Tokyo 2040 and Nene, notorious junk-food connoisseur is the one bringing the dinner! Linna misses the snow, Sylia has a back-up plan and Priss plots.
1. Chapter 1

It was Christmas Eve, Tokyo, and there was no snow. It never did snow much in Tokyo by the bay. The size of the city, the heat it generated and kept in its concrete ground and mountains, the smog that was its own warm duvet. Tokyo didn't get much cold at all anymore.

That suited Priss fine as she weaved through the ever-present bumper-to-bumper traffic of citizens trying to escape the city; to speak nothing of the crowding at every train station in the city. For a few days, she felt like she had the streets to herself: to roam, to race.

She'd give Linna the scare of her life flying over the rainbow bridge, leaving Leon's old hog chugging in her wake. Just the thought of it made her smile cruelly. Linna would be holding her so tight, screaming in her ear to slow down, stop and let her off. And she wouldn't.

"Hee, HEE." Priss chortled.

xmas

Linna liked Christmas. It snowed a lot where she had grown up. She'd go skiing and snow boarding every season when she was old enough, sledding when she was younger. The house was warm, outside flaked drifted down and the trees became puffy white things up on the mountains.

She hated Tokyo Christmas. There was no snow. It wasn't cold. Jeans and a jumper and that was all she needed. There was no point owning a scarf and forget about a yuletide beanie. There were none of the traditions of home and rural living either.

Waiting in line outside of a Kentucky Fried Chicken to buy Christmas special meal sets with Nene wasn't her idea of a real tradition, or a worthwhile use of time.

But Nene said she would prepare Christmas dinner this year for everyone at the Silky Doll, her treat, and so here she was, in a queue to buy the junk food that Nene liked the most. Oh, she'd had KFC a few times before, notably and always when in Nene's company and it tasted okay... and the big fries were seasoned, but still. It was Christmas!

Hopefully Sylia will open her cellar and they'd clean their palates getting drunk on fine wine and champagne.

"This is going to be great!" Nene yelled. "I've always wanted to do this. It's a Tokyo tradition!"

"That's nice, Nene," Linna replied, dying inside. "Wouldn't it have been better if Mackey was here helping you, isn't that what boyfriends are suppose to do?"

"Oh, he's helping Nigel finish putting up decorations and fireworks for New Years."

At least that was another chance to get drunk. Fireworks and booze. Priss had said she had the best viewpoint planned already.

xmas

Sylia was in the kitchen looking terribly busy, lounge robe barely tied on, a glass of champagne – starting early – emptied and refilled, in one hand.

"It has to be ready, just in case," she was saying, dreading having to eat the Colonel's chicken and secret herbs and spices, "nice and plump and juicy turkey. It has to be perfect, Henderson, just perfect."

Sylia wasn't doing any of the cooking. She never had. She didn't know how. The kitchen was state of the art. The pantry ordered food itself. She had a butler who could cook. What else could she ask for?

She raised the flute for another sip and there was nothing. Empty! She could ask for another glass. Quality champagne had no effect. She leaned into the granite bench top anyway. Alcohol of no kind mixed well with the pills she'd taken earlier, the ones the doctor has said to keep her in a steady frame of mind.

She needed her own doctor. Or better to self medicate. She was smarter than those quacks.

"And Nene can't know, Henderson," she said as she tipsy-toed out of the kitchen towards the temperature controlled wine room. "It would hurt her feelings so badly."

"Yes, mistress." Henderson replied dutifully. He had been looking forward to the Colonel: a day when he didn't have to cook far too much food for a fussy eater. One night off, just one night.


	2. Chapter 2

Priss drew up her bike alongside the curb next to the queue outside of KFC just as Nene and Linna emerged, hands and arms full of big red and white buckets and containers.

"Nice," Priss said. It wasn't often, or at all, that she gave out compliments, moreso where Nene was concerned.

"Priss, hi," Linna sighed.

"Just in time, Priss. We need to get dinner back to Sylia's before it gets cold!" Nene commanded.

The singer's tummy grumbled. The site and smell was salivating.

"Hop on. Give Linna the bread and whats not hot."

"Hey, what?" Linna interjected, she thought they were going to ride back together.

Nene exchanged packages before Linna knew what was happening and handed the buckets over to Priss to shield with her arms and body.

"Hurry up, Linna, or you'll miss out."

"Priss-"

But they were gone already.

"Damnit." Linna swore. Her scooter was a block away and all the food and drink was heavy. It would take ages puttering along under the weight to reach Sylia's place.

Grumbling she turned on her heels, new ankle boots she'd wanting to show off, and made haste to the parking bay where her little scooter sat.

xmas

Nigel and Mackey came down from the rooftop.

"All set," Nigel said. He opened the fridge and took out a long beer. "Want one?" he asked Mackey.

"I don't know if I'm allowed," Mackey replied.

"You'll handle it," Nigel meant, without saying, that Mackey was a boomer and alcohol wouldn't effect him, and despite his physical-age appearance, the boy was well old enough.

"Uh, maybe later."

Nigel shrugged and closed the fridge.

"Why is Henderson cooking?" Mackey looked into the oven, "Isn't Nene bringing everything for dinner?"

"Sylia."

Nigel opened the beer against the granite bench top. "How are you and Nene doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well enough, then."

"They should be here soon, I'll go downstairs and wait."

Mackey left. Nigel smiled.

"Well, then."

Good for them.

xmas

Linna finally made it. She parked her scooter next to Priss' bike, rubbed her sore butt. Far too long and bumpy a ride. She looked up, the top of the Silky Doll was brightly lit: green, red, blue and yellow.

"They better not have started without me!" she muttered.

The doors opened for her and she rode the elevator all the way to the roof. Everyone was up there standing by the pool taking and laughing.

"Here she is," Sylia waved.

"Finally, let's get started!" Nene said. She directed Linna over to a long table covered in a plastic Christmas themed table cover. The chicken buckets were in a heap under the table, the fried chicken in heat retaining containers. Linna dumped her load and like a swooping vulture, Priss had elbowed in and started loading up her plate.

"I'm starving!"

Nene, Nigel and Mackey joined in.

"Good work Nene, nice to have a change." Nigel said.

Sylia sided up to Linna. "Let's wait for the buzzards to clear first," then in a low conspiratorial whisper, "I have an alternative."

Linna nodded, not quite hearing what Sylia said or meant. She was hungry too, she'd even eat non-traditional mass fried chicken to satisfy it.

Everyone settled back into chairs and took the moment to relax and eat in finger-smacking silence. Nene and Mackey were next to each other, Sylia and Nigel, Henderson sort of in between both pairs, and Linna and Priss. The sound of the city stayed a level away letting the companions eat in gathered familiarity.

The ache in Linna's butt went away. Sylia let herself consume a drumstick and indulge in wiping up potato and gravy with a whiter-than-white bread bun. Priss and Nene had an involuntary eating competition. The others watched as they piled up the bones.

And then Henderson's oven timer beeped; and everyone knew what that was.


End file.
